


Ruffled

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's bothering his angel. Dean decides he needs to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruffled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tricksterity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/gifts).



> For Evvie, who was sick and tired of wings being solely a sexual device in wingfic. Here you go, darling.

Castiel looked rather uncomfortable. Dean could not fathom why: he was clean, his tie was askew just like it always was, and the television was on in the background. And yet Castiel kept squirming in his spot on the couch.   
"What's up, Cas?" Dean asked, furrowing his brow. "Something on your mind?"   
Castiel looked up, startled, like he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He had not meant to be so noticeable. He shook his head.  
"It is nothing, Dean."  
Dean looked at him sideways. "You're lyin' to me, Cas," he said with a bit of a drawl in his voice.   
A moment of silence stretched out before Castiel responded quietly.   
"My wings. It's my wings."   
Dean narrowed his eyes. In all the time he'd known Castiel he'd seen his wings once: when he had first met him, and their shadow played across the wall as lightning lit the room.   
"What about your wings?"   
"They are... ruffled. Dean... do... do you think you could..." he trailed off.  
"Could I what?"  
"Could you perhaps fix them out for me?"  
Dean was a bit taken aback at the odd request, but shrugged a shoulder and agreed.  
"I thought my senses were too dull to perceive them," he teased and made his way to sit next to the angel. Castiel touched his forehead with two fingers and suddenly two splendid black wings filled the air around him. Castiel had been right, though. They did need some fixing.   
He took a primary in his hand and gently slid it back into its rightful place. Feather after feather he adjusted, smiling to himself as Castiel sighed contentedly.  
"You're just like a cat," Dean murmured when he was done. He placed his hand between the place where Castiel's shoulder blades-turned-wings were and rubbed gently, relishing the softness of the shortest feathers there.   
Castiel breathed out a laugh.   
"It's like someone playing with your hair, except about fifty times more pleasurable," Castiel explained. "And very relaxing."  
"Well," Dean whispered. "We can't have any uptight angels around here, can we?" he leaned down and kissed the base of Castiel's wings as they sat together on the couch, content simply to be in one another's company.


End file.
